


take my hand when you are scared

by bumblebeecupcake



Category: Rise (TV 2018)
Genre: Boys In Love, Gay Panic, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, copious references to perfume genius, literally just fluffy, theyre in love and they love each other, this is just soft and self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblebeecupcake/pseuds/bumblebeecupcake
Summary: After their first (and only) show, Simon gives Jeremy a ride home.





	take my hand when you are scared

Simon offers Jeremy a ride home that night.

He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know  _ how.  _ He’s supposed to be done with Jeremy. This was supposed to be it; they’d have their scene together and they’d kiss and then he would never have to look Jeremy Travers in the eye again. It was a mantra of sorts, something to keep away the twist in his gut when he and Jeremy made contact.  _ Scene, kiss, don’t repeat. _

Something has changed, though. Maybe it’s been there since they’d talked in the dressing room earlier that week. Maybe it’s been there since the parking lot. Maybe it’s been there since even earlier, the first time Jeremy sang his solo in “Touch Me” and Simon felt a curl of heat in his stomach. It’s there now; Simon can barely look Jeremy in the eye without being on that stage again, Jeremy’s eyes rendering the stage lights useless, that spark of warmth and  _ rightness  _ between them.

Whatever it is, his mantra seems powerless against it, no longer a shield of steel but a curtain of paper.

It’s becoming harder and harder to ignore.

“Simon. Hey.”

“I-” Simon blinks, hard. “Sorry. What?”

“You just passed my place.” Jeremy’s eyebrows are raised, and he’s half-smiling in that way he does when he gets nervous. Simon hates that he recognizes it. “You okay?”

Simon takes a deep breath, pulling into someone’s driveway to turn around. “Yeah. I think so.”

“You think so? What’s up, Si?”

“I dunno. Just…  _ me _ stuff. I’m doing my best.” He pulls into the driveway when Jeremy points, parks the car. They sit.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Jeremy lets the seatbelt go with a soft  _ click,  _ “but if it’s okay- if there’s anything I can do-”

“Just.” Simon lets himself slump forward. “The show. Hanschen. My family.  _ Me.”  _ He doesn’t say  _ you,  _ but part of him wants to. 

Jeremy’s brows furrow. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey. The show’s over now, right? You can let it go. You don’t even have to talk to me anymore.” 

Of  _ course  _ Jeremy knows this is about him. Simon can hear the guilt in his voice.

“What if that’s not what I want?”

Jeremy blinks. Simon’s ears burn. He’s surprised at his own confidence. 

“I mean, talking to you. I like it.” He’s digging himself even deeper. He should stop. 

But it feels like letting out a breath he’s been holding for months. It feels  _ good. _

Simon takes a deep breath. “Please say something.”

“No, no,” Jeremy looks down at his hands, out the car window, back to his hands. “I just- I kind of thought you did. Want that, I mean. I didn’t know if I was being too pushy or, or, insistent or whatever. And, uh, thanks. I guess?”

“Sure.” Simon looks at the steering wheel. His heart is pounding.

He walks Jeremy to the door. It’s almost midnight and he should be home, but something about Jeremy’s smile when he invites Simon makes him take the offer. Jeremy’s house is a nice white Cape Cod in a neighborhood just outside of Stanton, and it’s cozy inside and smells like lemons. It’s sort of everything Simon’s house isn’t: cluttered, lived-in, with Legos strewn about and finger-paintings framed on the walls. Something in Simon’s chest hurts.

“Here we are,” Jeremy spreads his arms, “ _ le chez de Travers. _ ”

“This you?” Simon points to a photograph of a blond boy around six, buried up to his neck in sand. 

“Nah, that’s Griffin. My little brother.” Jeremy points to another photo, this one of a boy around nine on a metal statue of Dino from  _ The Flintstones,  _ wearing a cowboy hat and a pair of obnoxiously orange swim trunks. “ _ That’s  _ me.”

Incredulous, Simon laughs. “Looks like you were quite the character.”

Jeremy bumps him with a shoulder. “Yeah.  _ Were?  _ I still am quite the character.” 

“Okay, sure.”

“You’ve got a lot to learn about me, Saunders.”

Simon nudges him back. “You’re saying you’d  _ still  _ dress up in a cowboy hat and an orange swimsuit and hump a Dino statue?”

Jeremy wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe I would.  _ You _ don’t know.”

Simon’s laughing now, hard, and after a second Jeremy joins in. They start up the stairs, Simon mindlessly following Jeremy in the way you do when you go to someone’s house for the first time. He watches the back of Jeremy’s head, the nape of his neck, his shoulders under his shirt. Then he catches himself and looks away, shame burning his ears.

“Wanna see my room?” Jeremy asks, looking back.

Simon looks up.  _ Jeremy wants me to see his room. _ “Uh. Sure.”

Their eyes meet for a second. Jeremy pauses. 

Then he clears his throat and it’s over. “Fine, just promise not to make fun of my seventh-grade memorabilia. It’s a lot.”

Jeremy’s room is as warm and untidy as the rest of the house, the walls covered in posters for bands Simon’s never heard of, the flannel bedspread rumpled, the bulletin board overcrowded with photo-booth strips and ticket stubs and playbills. 

Simon kind of loves it.

He looks over, and Jeremy’s watching him. They’re close- so close that their arms brush. Simon smiles, a little hesitant. Jeremy smiles back. His eyes are bright.

“Nice room.” Simon looks back to the walls. “What’s Perfume Genius?”

Jeremy clears his throat and looks away. “An artist guy I like. Wanna hear some? His stuff’s not really dancey, but it’s nice. I like to listen to it when-” he cuts off, shaking his head. “Anyway. Yes or no to Perfume Genius?”

“Uh, sure.”

Jeremy takes out his phone and turns the volume all the way up. “This is ‘Normal Song.’”

It’s got a waltzy, acoustic sort of beat, and the singer’s voice is high and haunting. Simon can feel his heartbeat in his fingers. 

Jeremy sits down on the bed, eyes closed, nodding his head along to the music. He cracks one eye open and pats the bed beside him, scooting over to make room. Simon sits down next to him.

Jeremy’s so close to him that their shoulders touch, and Perfume Genius is singing  _ take my hand when you are scared. _

To be honest, Simon’s more than a little scared.

He touches Jeremy’s hand. The other boy startles, looking from their hands to Simon’s face with wide eyes.

Slowly, Simon turns his hand palm up.

Jeremy takes it.

Simon lets out a breath. He can feel their pulses blending together in his wrist.

“He’s gay, you know.”

“What?”

“Perfume Genius. He’s gay.”

“Oh.” Simon looks at their hands, then at his lap. 

“Yeah.”

They’re silent. The track switches to something slower, more forlorn. Jeremy’s head snaps up for a second, and he looks over at their linked hands.

Simon listens. His heart stutters. 

It’s an evocative, breathy cover of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” 

He feels restless, like his skin is too tight. He can’t look at Jeremy.

“Simon,” Jeremy starts.

Simon fumbles forward and kisses him.

Jeremy gasps a little and leans into him, so hard their teeth clack into each other. And then Simon pulls back slightly and squeezes Jeremy’s hand, hard, and there’s something like sparks going off in his chest. It’s different from their stage kiss; that pales in comparison. This is almost too much.

Jeremy pulls away. Simon leans after him, and he laughs, putting his free hand on Simon’s chest. They look at each other for a second, and then Jeremy leans in again.

With his free hand, Simon reaches up and touches Jeremy’s cheek, the side of his neck. He feels tense and loose at the same time, like he’s just run a mile. Jeremy inhales shakily. 

And then Jeremy pulls back again. “I have to pee.”

Simon raises his eyebrows, amusement tugging at his mouth. They look at each other.

“Well, go,” Simon says, grinning, and Jeremy leaves.

The second Jeremy’s out of the room, Simon lets out a heavy breath. His heart is racing, his hands trembling. Part of him is screaming to  _ leave, leave now, before this can get out of hand,  _ in a voice that sounds suspiciously like his father’s; the rest is humming with energy and something else.

He kissed Jeremy. Jeremy kissed him.

He  _ liked  _ it.

Simon touches his mouth. It’s a little numb.

He stands up.  _ Go,  _ his father’s voice says.  _ While he’s still in the bathroom. Get out. _

Simon stays.

Jeremy comes back a few moments later, his face flushed and a hand on the back of his neck. Simon looks at him. He looks back.

Simon steps forward, and Jeremy leans in. And it’s almost too much. He cups Jeremy’s face in his hands, and Jeremy pulls him closer, hands at the small of Simon’s back. It’s warm and close and it makes something in Simon’s chest feel full to bursting. 

He pulls back. Jeremy leans in just enough that their noses brush, and Simon feels that _ everywhere _ . They kiss again.

And again.

Simon pulls away and puts his arms around Jeremy’s neck, settling his chin on Jeremy’s shoulder. He smells like something warm and summery, and it makes Simon’s heart constrict. 

“Si.” Jeremy’s voice is breathless.

He pulls back. “Yeah.”

“I never thought-” Jeremy looks down, then back up to Simon. “I mean, sure, I hoped, a  _ lot,  _ but I didn’t-”

“I’m not gay,” Simon says automatically. Jeremy’s brow furrows.

“I mean,” he tries again, “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to…  _ say  _ anything yet. I’m just  _ me.  _ I don’t want to call myself anything else.”

This seems to satisfy Jeremy. The other boy relaxes. “That’s cool. I get it.”

Simon nods. He takes a deep breath. “I should go.”

Jeremy looks at his alarm clock. “Yeah. Probably.”

“I don’t really want to, though.”

“Neither do I.” 

Simon leans in and brushes his mouth against Jeremy’s, a gesture that hardly even qualifies as a kiss. “I wanna stay here forever.”

Jeremy doesn’t say anything. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Simon’s, eyelashes brushing the tops of Simon’s cheeks. 

This is  _ it.  _ This is literally everything. Simon’s heart is beating fast and heavy, his hands shaking. He can’t breathe.

“Yeah.” He says it just to break the silence. Jeremy looks back up at him, smiling, slow and lovely. Simon smiles back.

“I have to go,” he says, wistful. “I’ll see you at school? Maybe I can finally take you up on that study date.”

“I never said it was a date,” Jeremy chides, but his smile widens.

“Uh-huh. No one studies at 8 on a Saturday without an ulterior motive.”

“You got me there.” Jeremy kisses him again.

Slowly, they make their way downstairs, pausing here and there to kiss and/or exchange quiet words. At the door, Simon kisses Jeremy one last time, hands on Jeremy’s face. They pull away.

“Thanks,” Simon whispers. He means it.

Jeremy smiles, a little sadly. “Yeah. You too.”

Like a proper gentleman, Jeremy walks Simon to his car. They don’t kiss, but Simon takes Jeremy’s hand and squeezes it, just for a moment.

When Simon gets home, he downloads “Normal Song” on iTunes. 

**Author's Note:**

> thx for reading!!! i lov these dumb boyes they have my heart  
> leave kudos if u liked!!  
> xox  
> ** title is from "normal song" by perfume genius ajshsjsj


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